Complications
by In Pieces
Summary: AU. Devil May Cry wasn't a proper place to raise a baby, and Vergil just wasn't father material.


Dante had a rough day.

He walked with a frown towards Devil May Cry, ignoring the torrent of cold rain that fell from the dark clouds in the sky, washing away the blood that stuck to his tattered clothes as a result of his battle with some Hell Lusts downtown. The damned demons managed to slice up his coat real good, and nowadays leather was too expensive for him to replace it anytime soon. The fact that jobs were scarce didn't help his situation at all.

But he refused to think about the holes made into his precious coat and focused on the warmth of his shop and the heavenly cheesy taste of the pizza he would order when he arrived. Pizzerias had been closing late, and he would take the word of the owner of Rico's of a free large pizza as a thank you for getting rid of the demons plaguing the streets. He couldn't remember if he still had some beers left from the six pack he bought a few days ago, and even if it was highly unlikely, he hoped he had.

The bright neon sign soon came into view, displaying the letters he was so familiar with. And even if he wanted to feel a little comfort to be home there was a feeling nagging the back of his head. There was someone inside, someone that he wasn't exactly on good terms with.

_'It's impossible, I'm probably too tired and my mind's playing tricks on me.'_ He silently reassured himself as he opened the double doors, greeted by the brightly illuminated interior. His boots made a tacky sound as the mud in the soles of them stuck to the dirty wooden floor.

He instantly recognized the man inside, his scent and presence was too familiar to forget. And as Dante cautiously examined him from his position, he couldn't help to wonder what his motives were.

With a sigh, he took of his red coat and tossed it to the floor as he walked over to his desk and sat on its smooth surface, not caring about soaking up the fine wood of it.

"What are you doing here, Vergil?"

For a moment, the eldest twin didn't spoke up, almost as if he was pondering his answer thoughtfully.

"I need your help." Vergil finally said, making Dante chuckle.

"You're asking _me _for help? I must be dreaming. No, scratch that, I'm probably drunk and hallucinating because not even in dreams I can picture you saying that."

Vergil sighed and carefully stood up from his position to face his brother. "And I though you would have acquired some decency after all these years." He reproached, his icy eyes glaring at the red clad devil hunter.

Dante noticed something odd in Vergil's expression, he wasn't wearing that unyielding stoic mask, there was something else, something that Dante couldn't put his finger on. He wasn't upset, sad, angry or happy; it looked more like a quiet anxiety that was prominent by the slight furrowing of his brows.

"Let me guess," Dante said as he hopped off the desk. "You're having trouble with the ladies." Vergil scoffed at his brother's words, thinking it was unbelievable that he could manage to bring out the topic of females. Dante was smirking with triumph as he walked over to the couch.

"You are an imbecile." Vergil hissed.

"And that's why people avoid you." Dante replied with amusement before resuming his task of giving his feeble pieces of advice. Somehow, that made more sense than anything else Dante could think of. "It's not _that_ hard to pick up chicks, all you have to do is-"

A soft cry interrupted the devil hunter who stopped dead on his tracks and stared wide eyed at his twin. Vergil ignored him as he turned to the couch and crouched to retrieve a small bundle wrapped in a light blue fabric. The cries turned louder and Vergil frowned as he gently rocked the startled baby on his arms with no avail.

"What is that?" Dante asked slowly, his brain could barely process the image in front of him. Vergil was holding a baby on his arms, a _baby _that had the same scent as he did."Where did you get it?"

"It's an infant, Dante." Vergil told him with exasperation. Dante noticed he didn't answer his last question but opted to remain silent.

The devil hunter carefully approached the pair, fearing that if he made any sudden movement they would just disappear. But the cries were far too real; the kid was crying his lungs out and somehow managed to get his hands out of the protection of the blanket to swing his little fists around. Dante could observe from his position how the kid's face was scrunched and his eyes shut tightly as tears rolled down his chubby cheeks.

He watched the baby with his mouth slightly ajar, and the infant ceased his crying and opened his eyes to watch the stranger looming over him. His eyes were blue in a tone warmer than Vergil's and his own. The baby's eyes frantically scanned him and a gurgling sound escaped his lips closely resembling a laugh before the wailing continued, this time louder and more piercing than before.

Vergil scoffed. "It seems he finds your company disturbing."

"What? You know you are holding him wrong, right?"

Vergil merely raised an eyebrow.

"Gimme that," Dante said as he walked over to his twin and his screaming bundle. "You're holding him like we used to hold the neighbor's cat when we were kids. No doubt he's upset, even that ball of fur didn't like it." He grabbed the baby from Vergil's arms and carefully shifted it so the baby's head would be resting on the crook of his arm and Dante's free hand would be at the baby's bottom before he gently rocked him side to side.

Gradually, the crying stopped and they were engulfed into a heavy silence.

"So," Dante started. "Broken condom?"

"I supposed she was taking pills."

Dante clicked his tongue. "Does he have a name?"

Vergil frowned, finding the question ridiculous. "Nero."

Dante snorted. "Couldn't come up with a better one, bro? Naming your kid 'black' isn't exactly the best name out there. How about a normal name like Joe or something?"

Vergil didn't hesitate to show annoyance for his brother's ignorance. "Nero was the name of the 5th emperor of the Roman Empire."

Dante raised his eyebrows; his brother sure was an odd one. "Where's the mom?"

"I don't know."

"How come?"

"She left me."

Dante's head snapped up and his eyes met his twin's. Sure enough that mask of indifference hid much more than Dante believed. He wanted to tell him that he was sorry, but he knew better than that. The last thing Vergil would want is pity, especially coming out from his mouth.  
Dante felt the strange impulse to ask why, but he knew it would be pushing it too far. Vergil was confiding him that information, and he was almost certain that the only ones that knew about that so far where the ones there in Devil May Cry.

"…There's beer in the fridge."

Vergil walked past him wordlessly. When he came back he placed two cans of beer on the floor in front of the couch and took a seat, motioning him to do the same. Dante sat down slowly, fearing that the kid would wake up if he did it too fast.

He watched Vergil take a sip of his beer before stretching out his hands to grab his child. This time he held him properly.

And now Dante noticed what the change in Vergil's expression was: he was tired. Who knows since when the full responsibility for his kid fell upon his shoulders.

"How about you take a nap? There's a spare room upstairs, second door to the right. I'll take care of Nero." The invitation was right there, masked so it wouldn't hurt his brother's pride too much. Dante was well aware that he would never ask if he could stay. He probably thought that asking him for help was sinking too low.

"No, he will start crying as soon as he does not feel my presence."

"Come on, Verge; I tamed the little beast. He'll be fine, really." Dante reassured as the opened the can of beer on the floor beside his boots and took a long sip.

It felt like ages since the last time Dante used that irritating nickname, and it only made Vergil's assumptions true : no matter how much they fought and despised each other, at the end of the day they would always find a sort of relief in each other's company. There was no use denying that they were a dysfunctional family.

And once again, just like it happened a few years ago, they were back to square one: pure neutrality.

"I'll amuse you. Do as you please." Vergil told him as he rose from his seat. There was the slightest trace of a smirk on his lips as he handled the child over.

"Your dad's crazy. You'll play nice with me. Won't you, kid?" Dante cooed the sleeping baby on his arms.

Neither Dante nor Vergil made any comment about how strange the word 'dad' sounded now.

The youngest twin heard Vergil's footsteps ascending the stairs but paid little attention at them. What made his eyes widen and a groan escape his lips was the frowning face of the baby who shifted on his arms before waking up from his slumber, greeting him with a set of loud cries that made him flinch.

It didn't take long for him to be outside the partially open door of the spare bedroom and push it open with his boot.

"I believed you had tamed the beast?" Vergil mocked from his relaxed position on the bed. His coat was neatly folded in the dusty dresser, his boots discarded beside the bed and his eyes closed. He didn't even bother to open them to look at his twin.

"All yours." Dante announced before he cautiously left the crying baby on his brother's chest. He left the room quickly, muttering a curse.

Vergil opened his eyes and stared at the screaming baby that laid on top of him. He placed his hand on the baby's back and massaged it gently, soothing him until his cries became soft exhales of air, indicating he was fast asleep again.

"You are a nuisance." He told his child. Nero's response came in the form of a twitch on his right arm.

Dante was sprawled on the leather couch downstairs, finishing the last drops of his cheap beer. He eyed the opened can that belonged to his brother and took it from the floor. He wouldn't mind, he had more important things to worry about other than a can of beer; a perfectly fine half-empty can of beer that was too good to leave it there unattended.

How much could he actually help his brother? He was clueless on how to properly take care of a baby, and he just knew that Vergil was in the same predicament he was. What Dante was certain of was that babies ate a lot, shat twice what they ate and had the ability to cry even if a fly crossed their paths. That wasn't exactly useful.

And now that he thought about it, sooner or later the kid was going to wake up crying and Vergil would have a nice, _pleasant_ odor coming out from his diaper. The thought made him snicker.

Yet, he found no humor realizing that raising a baby in Devil May Cry wasn't the smartest choice, and that Vergil just wasn't father material. He was too cold for his own sake.

With a sigh he made his way over to his bedroom, briefly passing the opened door of the guest room. He caught a glimpse of his brother and the baby on his chest sleeping soundly. Vergil had wrapped an arm around Nero's midsection to prevent a fall.

Dante smiled.

_"Maybe things won't be so bad after all."_ He thought as he took one last sip of beer and tossed the empty can to the floor before he crashed into his bed and closed his eyes to have some much needed rest.

And he would have achieved that if Nero hadn't decided that it was perfectly acceptable to cry as loud as he could and make the high pitched sound resonate through the shop for no reason.

He could swear he heard Vergil growl in annoyance.

* * *

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it.

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.


End file.
